“Hm.” He doesn’t buy it. “You’re smiling when she texts. You’re laughing. You’re happier than I’ve seen you in years. And it wouldn’t kill you to admit it. If you’ve found something good, maybe you don’t need revenge anymore.”
I take a step toward him, rage flickering hot and fast. “I’m this close to bashing your head in, Marko. Say what you came to say and leave.”
He studies me for a long moment, then sighs. “Your new collection is going viral. Reviews are pouring in. We got a spot at the Baldwin Art Convention.”
That stops me.
“The Baldwin?” I ask slowly.
He nods. “Exclusive. Invitation-only. You’re the only artist exhibiting.”
A small, satisfied smile curves my mouth despite myself. The collection dropped this morning, and the response has been overwhelming. Praise. Think pieces. Speculation.
But there’s only one review I’m waiting for.
Sienna Roth.
I don’t care what Marko thinks. That’s why I’m doing this. That’s why she’s here. That’s why I let her get close.
“RSVP,” I say coolly. “We’re going.”
Marko nods, but his eyes linger on me like he knows something I don’t—or something I’m refusing to admit. Then he turns and walks out.
The door clicks shut.
I pick up my phone again.
A new message lights the screen.
Sienna:You’re quiet. That usually means you’re thinking something dangerous.
My lips twitch.
I type back.
Because whatever this is—I’m still in control.
Me:Marko just came by. My collection is doing well. Secured a spot at the Baldwin Convention.
Three dots appear almost immediately.
Sienna:Sebastian, that’s incredible. It’s highly exclusive. I knew it would. The collection is…bold. Intimate. It feels different from your older works. I love it.
I smile to myself, slow and satisfied.
Good.
That’s what I needed to hear.
Now all that’s left is for her to say it out loud. Publicly. In print.
I hesitate for half a second before typing again. My next text is a risk. I’ve kept everything between us careful—wholesome—even after the kiss. No pressure. No lines crossed.
Still.
Me:And how exactly do you plan to praise me for it? I want more than words of mouth.
The silence stretches. A minute passes. Then two.
